His lips are cracked with a hint of blue. There’s an IV in the crook of his arm.
And he’s breathing.
I should be thrilled, relieved.
But I still feel like I’m at that beach, panicked and hopelessly not knowing where his body drifts. An aching knot appears, reminding me grief almost won again.
I stare at his chest, watching it rise and fall like it might stop if I look away.
It’s seven a.m. We made it to the hospital at three in the morning.
I felt my body give out when they rushed him into a room and we were left thinking about every possible situation. They pumped his stomach and informed us that he’d drowned because he mixed Xanax and alcohol.
Both substances have the ability to control your nervous system and slow down brain activity. Hearing that this stupid mistake could have killed him made me so mad at myself. I should have looked out for him better, done more research about the dos and don’ts. What made this situation worse was the added danger of drowning while experiencing severe drowsiness, loss of coordination, and blacking out. The doctors were surprised he was alive.
That killed me.
Surprised he’d made it out alive? I refuse to believe he should be dead right now. There is no world that I want to live in without my Elijah.
His family just left to get some rest and to plan out how they’re going to inform everyone that the concert tonight is canceled. Which is sucky for Times Three because of how much work and excitement they put into it. Not only that, but the fan base has been going crazy for this show. I hope Fay is gentle with his heart and doesn’t expose him to the harsh world. He doesn’t need any extra stress placed upon him.
“You scared me half to death,” I whisper, voice hoarse from crying, screaming, and begging. “I thought I’d lost you. I wouldn’t have survived this loss, Elijah.”
As if feeling my presence, he stirs slightly. His eyes flutter open in slow motion, like it hurts. I haven’t spoken to him since before he blacked out and drowned, but Leonidas spoke to himbefore he left for work and informed me he’s aware of what happened.
The steady beat of his heartbeat spikes faster on the monitor once his hazy gaze finds mine. “Lily, I’m so sorry, baby,” he croaks and winces.
I feel tears rush to my eyes so fast that I don’t have enough time to control them. “Hi, my love.” I reach out, and his eyes close when I caress his cheek, memorizing the feeling of him being safe. “You have nothing to be sorry about, so don’t apologize.”
He shifts a little, wincing, but not looking away. “I could have killed myself.”
I nod, unable to form any words. Only hours ago, I thought he was dead.
My own life flashed before my eyes.
“But you’re here—alive. That’s all that matters.”
“The doctors said mixing Xanax and alcohol is dangerous. I never knew that because I hardly drink.” He blinks, slow and confused. “I thought I was just drunk, but in the water, I started feeling disconnected and numb. As if my brain was slowing down and not allowing me to think. It scared the fuck out of me. I don’t remember anything else after that.”
“It could have stopped your heart completely.” My voice cracks. “And your brain … God, when I realized you weren’t on the sand, I almost lost my mind. Imagining you out in the ocean, sinking, was like witnessing my own slow death.”
“I didn’t do this on purpose.” Elijah reaches for me in the weakest motion, his fingers interlocking with mine. “I need you to understand that.”
I drop my head on the open space of his bed, shoulders shaking. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but I should have been more aware of the dangers.”
“Nope, not under my watch.” He cradles the back of my neck and squeezes. “You are not responsible for any of that. I am, and my doctor is.”
“I always want to help you,” I mumble into the now-damp bedsheets.
“That’s what you’re doing right now by just keeping me comfy in this scary hospital.” I hear a smile in his voice.
I rise to meet his gaze, and he pats the bed, scooting to make room for me on his tiny hospital bed. After a couple of minutes of cuddling and appreciating his body heat, I break the silence.
“What’s the next steps after you get discharged from this place?”
“More online therapy.” His words vibrate against my ear that’s lying on his chest. “Fay demands it. Even after I told her mixing the two substances was a mistake.”
“And the concert?” I’m afraid to even ask.
